


Footprints In The Snow

by Earth_Phoenix



Series: A Very Tomarrymort Christmas 2018 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Painter Harry, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 21:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16818487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earth_Phoenix/pseuds/Earth_Phoenix
Summary: Harry does some early morning painting.





	Footprints In The Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Copper for Beta'ing this! <3

A light dusting of snow covered the ground, glinting in the pre-dawn sunlight. The cottage and surrounding fields looked like a picturesque, traditional British postcard. Snow was frosted against the windows, icicles hung from the roof. Frost glinted on the dark back door, making it appear a deep black. 

Harry wrapped his winter cloak around his shoulders, grateful for his fiance’s foresight in placing warming charms on it to keep the winter cold at bay.

Picking up his easel, he tucked it under his arm and reached for his well-used oil paints. Heading outside, Harry closed the front door as gently as he could. He glanced up at his bedroom window, which was still dark; he had not awakened his lover.

He turned and began walking down the snow-covered garden path, the snow crunching softly under his feet. He headed to his favourite spot in the large garden and set up his easel, facing towards the house near in the middle of the snow-covered field.

Their small, two-story, thatched cottage home was perfect. Situated in the middle of the English countryside, it was hidden with strong concealment charms and had been made unplottable.

He murmured a spell to clean and warm the chair that lived outside for when he wanted to paint - covered of course in protection charms, keeping the busybodies and crazed supporters from both sides at bay. He sat down, slipped on a pair on black fingerless gloves, and set to work.

The sun had risen fully when the back door opened. Tom Riddle, dressed in a handsome dark blue robe that emphasized his well-toned body, stood framed in the doorway. For a moment, Harry thought he had never seen anything more enchanting.

Tom stepped out, his breath rising like smoke in front of him. The patterns Tom’s breath made in the still air reminded Harry of uncoiling snake. Tom walked slowly towards him, being careful of the slowly melting snow.

Harry’s eyes followed his every movement, his fingers clutching at his paintbrush and pencil. Itching to paint Tom into the picture. Harry had countless drawing pads dedicated to Tom. Sketches upon sketches of Tom sleeping, cooking, the time Tom had helped Ron and Hermione’s daughter Rose put together a puzzle. He could draw Tom’s face in his sleep, the man was utterly beautiful in every way.

Tom reached him at last and held out a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Harry hastily put down his tools and accepted the warm cup. He curled his paint flecked fingers around the middle of the cup, basking in its warmth. He took a deep breath, filling his nose with the sweet aroma.

Tom stood behind him, one of his long fingers playing with the lone curl at the back of his head. His other fingers skated over the nape of his neck, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

Harry rested his head against Tom’s firm chest, pulling the man’s arms around him.

At that moment, Harry could never imagine being happier than he was now.

“Merry Christmas, Tom.”

“Merry Christmas, Harry.”


End file.
